~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

semi-darkness

You, sitting on a chair
by the one twin bed
in a small room
A television in the corner playing
an old Lucille Ball movie, not a comedy

not that anything was funny that night

Your face, ashen red in the
semi-dark, stained with tears.
my scars, pinkish red
in the flickering light
the scars that stained your face

left wrist,
up the arm
and tears,
your tears
falling


A nightmare, suddenly
all too vivid
as vivid as a mottled
memory of the pain
of a mother's desperation

in that room,
the small, small room
in your home, your dream house
with the swimming pool just
outside the window...


I must have known
that by reaching out
my arm as I lay on that
single twin bed, you'd see the
                   ... criss-crossed lines I'd etched...



you never cry

But you did.
And now it is that
old movie, I remember
playing itself out as
we waited out the pain

you cried

And I could
swear that Lucille Ball
cried that night
in that movie,
real tears...


So this painful
criss-cross of memory
had Lucille Ball
crying
real tears
with you

in the semi-darkness



Your tears, Mom,
are etched forever within...